


no days so delightful

by theadventuresof



Category: Naruto
Genre: Fluff, M/M, Oneshot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-05
Updated: 2019-10-05
Packaged: 2020-11-24 01:00:56
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 755
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20899040
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/theadventuresof/pseuds/theadventuresof
Summary: Or, the hashimada corn maze oneshot.





	no days so delightful

**Author's Note:**

> man FUCK mutual pining!!!! sappy oneshots are my new best friend

“You got us lost out here on purpose,” Madara says in a long-suffering voice, “didn’t you.”

Hashirama bites his lip. His face breaks into that too-familiar mischievous grin. 

Madara slides down against the corn stalks with a sigh. “I don’t know why I bothered to ask.”

He peers through the corn stalks up at the sky. It’s a bright, blue, cloudless day, although the days leading up to the Senju harvest festivals always are. Nearly all the preparations are complete: the pumpkins are carved; the lanterns are hung; the streets are swept and the vendors are all in town, ready to celebrate. And yet— 

“Someone’s got to test the maze to make sure it’s possible!” Hashirama bursts out, failing to feign innocence. “And now we know it poses more of a challenge than _anyone_ could have foretold.”

Madara rolls his eyes, but now he’s smiling too. “And you just _ needed _ another person to come along with you,” he says, “in case the task was too great for you to complete alone, O Great and Mighty Hokage-Sama.”

Hashirama regards him very seriously. “Your scythe-wielding skills are unparalleled,” he says.

Madara raises one eyebrow.

“Not my only skill that’s unparalleled,” he says, his eyes flashing red for a moment. “As I’m sure you know.”

“Hey,” Hashirama says, his voice wavering a little. “Come here.” He kneels down in the dirt, plucks a massive cluster of corn husks off the ground, and gently brushes the dust off.

“What?” Madara says, peering over Hashirama’s shoulder.

“It’s you,” Hashirama whispers, and then neatly dodges the fistful of corn and dirt that Madara throws at him. He surfaces, laughing.

“Let me see that,” Madara demands, lifting it out of Hashirama’s hands. He scrutinizes it for a moment, his mouth twisted in a grim line, before tossing it aside. “Needs more hair.”

Hashirama dives after it, pouting. “It’s cute!” he says.

Madara quickly intercepts him, grabs him by the jaw on his way down. “Hey,” he says. “The real thing is right here, you know.”

Hashirama blows a stray strand of hair out of his eyes. They gaze at each other for several seconds. Then Madara tackles him to the ground.

“Come here, you—you—” 

Hashirama laughs, his hair spilling in the dirt. He wraps his arms around Madara’s back, runs his fingers through his hair. Madara leans down. His lips are inches from Hashirama’s. Then he stops.

“Where’s your brother?” he says, frowning.

“Still minding the office,” Hashirama says, breathless. “Should be busy for another hour at least.”

“Oh, good,” Madara murmurs, and kisses him hard.

* * *

“Oh, dear,” Hashirama says, sitting up with difficulty some thirty minutes later. He—and his discarded haori, several feet away—are both covered in dirt and corn matter, and there’s a trail of rather obvious bite marks down his neck.

Madara ties his sash around his waist, businesslike. He pulls a stray orange leaf out of his hair. “Ready to finish this damn maze?”

“Right,” Hashirama says, fruitlessly brushing the dirt off his haori. He clears his throat. “How do we get out of here, exactly?”

Madara turns to him, incredulous. “You’re actually lost,” he says. “You actually—” He laughs. “Hashirama, you’ve got to be kidding me. You don’t know how to get us out of here?”

“I _ told _ you I’d need another pair of eyes,” Hashirama says.

Madara groans. “And here I thought the whole thing was just playful banter—”

“It _ was _ playful banter!” Hashirama says quickly. “I just…didn’t think this far ahead.”

Not for the first time, Madara gives a very long sigh. “We’ll just go back the way we came,” he says.

Hashirama blinks at him. “Huh?”

“Two lefts, a right, left, straight, right, left, left, right, straight, left again, straight,” Madara says, counting it off on his fingers as he goes. “Sound familiar?”

Hashirama bites his lip again. “I knew it was a good idea to bring you along,” he says. “But we still need to, you know, actually finish the maze.”

Madara laughs. “We’ll just have to go again tonight,” he says. “Don’t make any plans.”

“Wouldn’t dream of it,” Hashirama says. He fidgets suddenly. “I think there’s corn silk between my—”

“Let’s just go,” Madara says hastily.

“Wait!” Hashirama cries, seizing the Madara-shaped corn husk cluster from the ground. “Can I bring it along?”

“Yeah, all right,” Madara says, smiling as he takes Hashirama’s hand. “We’ll put it on the mantle with the others.”

* * *

(The second trip into the maze is not much more productive than the first.)


End file.
